


Try Hard (Muke)

by heckarikki



Series: Muke/Cashton one shots [3]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer, 5SOS, Muke - Fandom, ashton irwin - Fandom, calum hood - Fandom, luke hemmings - Fandom, michael clifford - Fandom, muke clemmings - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckarikki/pseuds/heckarikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is mostly fluff and no smut, only lowkey like clothes on all the time, im not good at smut but if anyone wants to write some for the story that would be cool and ill give you credit</p>
    </blockquote>





	Try Hard (Muke)

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly fluff and no smut, only lowkey like clothes on all the time, im not good at smut but if anyone wants to write some for the story that would be cool and ill give you credit

It was Friday night and I was just coming down from a serious high.

No, I wasn’t on drugs. I had just scored the winning goal against our rivals, the Spartans. Every win was exciting for me, but not like this. Being the star quarterback, I was used to scoring the praise that accompanied it. Tonight everything was on speed or something. I was practically getting tossed around from person to person, congratulating me and telling me to just look at the other teams faces. 

When my team was done with me, as well as Jack and Ben, my brothers who had run down from the stands when the game finished, I finally let my gaze wander to where I had kept myself from looking all night. The cheerleaders. They were in a huddle, something they always did when we won. I searched, but who I was looking for was probably in the middle of the circle. After a few seconds they all threw their pom poms up, and then the sound of laughter before they moved to pick them up and I finally saw him.

Michael Clifford.

I’d had a huge crush on Michael clifford since he’d moved here freshman year, when I was just starting on varsity and they barely let me play and I could spend the whole game just gazing at him. He was… different, to say the least. He had red hair, spiked up just right and making me wish I could mess it up. He had a piercing in his eyebrow during school, but he took it out during cheer. I figured it could get dangerous when they did those cool flippy things. And more than anything, he seemed so confident in everything he did. Everything about him was just mesmerizing. 

“A cheerleader, huh?” Jack said, making me jump. I blushed. I hadn’t realized he was still standing there. Great. I’d managed to keep my secret for a year now and I blew it with one look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted, not ready to admit it just yet.

 

“Oh, shut up,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. I should’ve known he’d see past my bullshit; he knew me better than anyone else in the world, including my best friend Calum. “You think she’ll be at the party after?”

“I doubt it,” I mumbled. I told Jack I thought I might be bisexual before, but I still didn’t correct his pronoun, because there was only one boy on the squad and then he’d know exactly who it was. “Never goes unless Ashton drags.. her.” Ashton was a linebacker, definitely the best on the team. 

“Michael clifford?” He asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“How the fuck did you-”

He laughed, cutting me off. “Because you hesitated before you said her, dingus. And besides, Ashton and him have always been really close.”

I wasn’t at all surprised he knew who Michael was, even though he was a senior when Michael had moved here. It was a small town, and he’d made a pretty big impact despite how quiet he seemed the first day he moved here, walking in with his piercing and his leather jacket and his hair that never seems to fade. He shocked everyone even more by making the varsity cheer squad right away, which was usually only upperclassmen. He’d been in my history class, and him and Ashton had immediately clicked. I’d been so jealous I didn’t talk to Ashton for a full week.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you liked Michael Clifford,” Jack complained. “Why don’t you just have Ashton set you up?”

“I don’t even know if he likes boys,” I said miserably.

“Then you can ask Ashton that too!”

“Ask Ashton what?” I heard loudly behind me in a familiar voice. Fuck. I turned around to see the blonde haired defenseman looking at me like he always did when I didn’t tell him something right away, which his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised.

“Luke likes Michael Clifford!” Jack exclaimed.

I groaned, turning back around to shove my brother. “What the fuck, Jack?” I whined. I didn’t want anyone to know, but especially not Ashton. It would be so embarrassing if he was straight, or what if he had a girlfriend at his old school?

“Oh my god!” Ashton squealed, and I turned around to see him looking more excited than Jack. Did that mean I had a chance? No, he was probably just gonna make fun of me. Not that Ashton would, but either way Michael would never actually like me. I was such a wimp compared to him. I couldn’t even wear band merch to school without feeling embarrassed. “I should totally set you guys up!”

“That’s what I said!” Jack exclaimed. 

“I don’t need your help guys,” I mumbled. “Leave me alone.”

“Whatever you say,” Ashton said, but I didn’t like that little gleam in his eyes.

***

I was glad Jack and Ben had decided they were too old to come to the celebratory party, because it meant I could drink without having to worry about their disapproving glances. It was totally hypocritical, anyway. They were doing worse when they were my age.

I was on my third drink when Ashton approached me, and I wasn’t smashed but I was definitely a little happier than usual if you know what I mean. “Hey, mate!” He said loudly as he approached me. I smiled widely back at him, waving enthusiastically and not even caring how stupid I looked. I loved alcohol. All it did was let me be the me that I was too fucking cowardly to be by myself.

“Hey, Irwin,” I returned, grinning as I brought the cup back up to my lips. I whined when Ashton grabbed it from me, placing it on the floor even though it would obviously be knocked over if he left it there.

“That’s enough alcohol,” he said. “I have something much more important to tell you.”

“What could be more important?” I argued, aware of how dumb I sounded and not caring.

“Well, guess who I got to come to the party?” He answered, wiggling his eyebrows.

Still irritated, I just shrugged. “I don’t know, Obama?” I said sarcastically.

He laughed loudly, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one that should be cut off from alcohol. “No, I meant loverboy,” he said in a teasing tone.

I paused, not totally understanding because I was as single as they get. “I already said Obama,” I answered, hoping the joke would make him come clean.

“I meant Michael you dingus!” He shouted, making my cringe in realization and then quickly glanced around to make sure no one had heard. 

Part of me wanted to yell at Ashton for trying to set us up when I specifically told him not to, but part of me realized now was a perfect time. I had some liquid courage in my system and who knows when he’d come again and give me that opportunity. So I let out an exaggerated sigh before reluctantly asking, “Where is he?”

Ashton cheered before pointing me in what I knew was the direction of the living room. I counted three deep breaths before puffing out my chest and heading that way. “That’s my boy!” I heard Ashton cheer after me, and I couldn’t help blushing a little.

I spotted him easily, playing guitar in the middle of the couch, surrounded by a small circle of clearly less than sober people cooing at every note. Michael seemed shy but confident at school, but I’d never seen him as comfortable as he looked playing that guitar, lips curled into an easy smile and his mouth softly forming the words, too quiet to actually hear. And the song, of course, was one I easily recognized. I Miss You by Blink 182. I wondered if he was singing about anyone specific. I hoped not.

Never before in my life had I been so turned on just by looking at someone.

I slowly approached the group of people, trying my best to be polite as I pushed my way to the front. Nobody seemed to notice, especially not Michael, being so absorbed in what he was doing. It was mesmerising, watching his fingers move over the strings like that. I felt like like I could watch it forever. 

I waited until he was done and there was some light applause and even one holler before clearing my throat awkwardly. I felt a lot less confident than I had when I was walking over here but it was too late to back out now. “Hey,” I said, smiling. “That was really good.”

“Thanks,” he answered, shrugging. He didn’t seem very interested in talking to me but I was over here so now I was determined. 

“I love the guitar,” I said, blurting out the first thing that popped into my mind. Shit, that sounded stupid.

He raised his eyebrows at me skeptically. “You play?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and now I was blushing. God, I was so obvious. “I’m rubbish, though.”

“Well, you never did seem like the guitar type to me,” he said, and it sounded a bit snobbish but I wasn’t offended because I knew what he meant. I had never presented myself as anyone but a loud jock, and I didn’t talk about what I really loved even more, music, in front of people.

“Really? What type do I seem like to you?” I said, hoping it sounded flirty and not bitchy. 

“The football type,” he answered quickly, smirking. 

I didn’t answer for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he was joking. But no, he was serious. He thought just because I played football I wouldn’t be able to play guitar, too. I held out my hand in a silent request and he didn’t hesitate to hand me the guitar by the neck. 

I plopped down next to him on the couch, our thighs almost touching but not quite. I chose another simple song, Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day. I sang the words along softly, to help remember it, and I prayed he couldn’t hear. I stopped about halfway through when I became aware of all the eyes on me, especially Michael’s. I looked around, my cheeks red hot, and was surprised when everyone burst into applause. Michael wasn’t clapping, though. He just looked a little… shocked, to say the least.

After a few seconds he seemed to compose himself, quirking one eyebrow and looking straight at me before saying, “Well, I’m really more into drummers.”

***

“C’mon, Lukey, you can’t give up that easy!” 

I wasn’t sure when this had turned into an intervention, but since the party both Calum and Ben had been informed of my ‘situation’ so to speak. It wasn’t fair, I’d only meant to tell Jack about the incident at the party, which had been pretty humiliating. I never wanted to leave my room again. I’d never been so outright rejected before, especially in front of so many people. 

“You’re the one that got me into this situation in the first place,” I said, pointing an accusing finger at Ashton. “I asked you to leave me alone. Now he hates me instead of being unaware of my existence.”

“Everyone knows you exist,” Calum said, rolling his eyes. He was sitting next to Ashton, and I was unsure when they’d become friends. Calum wasn’t on the team, and I’d never seen them talking before. But apparently everyone liked to collaborate when it came to ruining my life.

“Not Obama,” I pointed out.

“Don’t be stupid, Luke,” Ben said.

“Gee, thanks, my confidence is totally boosted,” I answered, rolling my eyes.

“You’re such a dick,” he answered. “I just meant he’s probably just playing hard to get. I mean, come on, if anything you’re the one that’s out of his league.”

Ashton looked like he was about to defend his friend, but he didn’t have to because I stepped in quickly. “That’s not true,” I argued. “Michael is like, perfect. I’m loud and annoying and all I can ever do is act like everyone around me. Michael’s different. He’s quiet but he’s so strong. He breaks all these stereotypes, he does all these things I’ve always wanted to but don’t have the confidence to. He’s way out my league, bro.”

The room went silent and I realized maybe I got a bit carried away. I blushed a little, and hoped the awkward moment would pass. It did, but unfortunately only because Calum said, “Bro, you’ve never even really talked to him.”

The whole room burst into laughter and my blush turned so deep I could feel heat radiating off my face. “Shut up,” I said. “I told you, I’m just infatuated. It’s fine. It’ll go away.”

“But it doesn’t have to,” Ashton complained. “Seriously, now that I’ve actually thought about it, you two would be perfect together. Same sense of humor, you’re both huge music freaks, you’re both gay as hell-”

“I’m not gay,” I whined.

“I know man,” he said, grinning. “I was just fucking with you. But the rest is true. I’m so gonna make it happen.”

“You guys suck,” I said, even though I was secretly grateful. I was 110% I’d never have the confidence to just casually approach Michael Clifford again after how it’d gone at the party.

“You love us,” Jack said cheekily, and God, I did.

***

“Alright, Hemmings,” I heard, making me jump. It was the end of the day and I was just at my locker, grabbing my things to head home. I turned around, my cheeks burning when I saw it was Michael. Why the hell couldn’t I stop blushing? I was such a mess. “What did you tell Ashton?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, which was true. “That’s kind of a vague question. I told him that I was thinking about getting a lip piercing, if that’s what you mean.”

He looked blankly at me for a second before grinning and saying, “You should. That’d be cool.” I decided immediately that I was getting my lip pierced this weekend. “You know that’s not what I meant, though.”

“What did you mean, then?” I asked, leaning against my locker and trying to seem casual and not like my heart was racing a hundred miles a minute.

“I meant he told me to apologize,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me. “But I don’t think I did anything worth an apology. Did I hurt your feelings, Hemmings?”

“Why do you keep calling me Hemmings?” I asked, just to avoid the question.

“Are you avoiding the question?” He asked. Dammit.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings,” I lied. “Ashton is just weird about stuff. I figured you’d know that, being his best friend and whatnot.”

He looked at me for a few seconds, just enough time to give my stomach a chance to tie itself into a hundred different knots, before nodding. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Well, I’m sorry if what I said was rude. I was just… I didn’t expect you to be better than me.”

My heart sunk at his words. He really thought that? “I wasn’t,” I insisted. “You were… you’re really good, Michael. Like really, really good. And you have great taste, too. I love Blink.”

“You do?” He asked, smiling a little.

“Yeah, they’re easily my favorite band, besides maybe Green Day,” I said, then paused and added, “Or Good Charlotte.”

“Well, shit,” he said. “Didn’t peg you for having such good taste.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, I guess,” I said, aware of how stupid I sounded and wishing I could take it back right away.

“How cliche, Hemmings,” he teased, looking amused. I was aware suddenly that we were the only ones left in the hallway, just me and Michael, and if I wanted I could just kiss him. Right here, right now.

Instead I said, “There you go with that Hemmings again.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, shrugging. “There’s just so many Luke’s in this school I call them all by their last name when I talk about them.”

“How often do you talk about me?” I asked, trying to pass it off as teasing when really I was genuinely curious.

“Only when someone else brings you up,” he answered. I frowned. Okay, I admit, it wasn’t exactly the answer I’d been hoping for. 

“Whatever you say,” I said, attempting to sound indifferent.

He stood still for a few seconds before saying, “I should go. My mom is probably waiting outside.”

“Oh, okay,” I answered, trying not to sound disappointed. “I can give you a ride home, sometime, if you want.”

“Sure,” he answered quickly. “That sounds okay.”

He turned around, walking away, and being as smooth as I was, I waited until he was almost all the way down the hallway before gathering the courage to call out to him. “Michael!” I said, making him spin around.

“Yeah?” He yelled back.

“I think yours is cool, too!”

“My what?”

“Your piercing.”

I could see him grin from where I was standing before he rounded the corner and disappeared.

***

“I’m getting my lip pierced,” I announced that Saturday, standing in front of Calum and Ashton. Jack and Ben were both back into their dorms. It always made me sad how short their visits were but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with Michael, does it?” Ashton mumbled, not looking up from his phone.

I felt myself grin. “He told you about that?”

He finally looked up, sharing a look with Calum before saying, “Actually, he hasn’t mentioned you at all. But I think you mentioned it to me at least eighteen times. Good to know you’d stick holes in your body for someone you’ve never talked to before.”

I frowned. “Oh yeah,” I muttered. “I did. But it’s not just him,” I insisted. “I wanted to anyway. That was just an added bonus. Besides, I’m sorry if I talk about him a lot, it’s two years of bottled feelings.”

“He moved here two years ago,” Calum pointed out.

“Shut up. Are you guys coming or not?”

“You’re going right now?” Ashton asked, raising his eyebrows at me. “You don’t want to think it over a little longer?”

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t kidding, I’ve wanted to for a while anyway,” I informed him. “It’s just that this sealed the deal. If I hate it I can always just take it out and it’ll close up and I can pretend I didn’t waste thirty dollars.”

They shrugged and agreed. Ashton drove us, being the oldest. I’d just gotten my license and I drove myself to school, but it was my mom’s car and she only let me use it for that purpose. Otherwise, I still had to find a ride everywhere. It was annoying, but whatever. Ashton seemed to be hanging around more and more anyway lately, and he was always willing to give a ride even if he didn’t get anything out of it. That’s why I loved the guy.

The car ride was mostly silent until I said, “Did he really not mention me at all?”

Ashton shrugged. “Maybe once or twice,” he said vaguely, but I could see his smirk.

Yup, I’m definitely getting this piercing.

And I’m not gonna lie, Calum held my hand the whole time it was getting done.

***

I felt extremely self conscious coming in on Monday, and my lip was throbbing. The guy had warned me about that, and it was supposed to go away soon, but for now I didn’t want to be there. The only reason I was was because I had practice after school and if you missed school, you couldn’t go to practice. And my coach would kill me if I missed.

I struggled through the day, avoiding talking and avoiding playing with the ring, which I seemed to be making a habit of doing whenever I got bored. The only classes that were okay were the ones I had with Michael, and that was because I never got bored listening to him talk. Curse him and his stupid red hair. 

Today we had Algebra Two Honors, one of the classes we had together, last block and I decided if I was going to pierce my lip for him I was going to make damn sure he noticed it. I waited until the bell rang to stand up and push my way through my classmates in his direction. I didn’t manage to catch up to him until we were in the hallway, but I didn’t care. I tapped his shoulder, and he turned around happily. His smile fell when he saw it was me, but he didn’t look disappointed, just confused. 

“Are you stalking me, Hemmings?” He asked, raising one eyebrow at me. I felt more awkward this time, being surrounded by people instead of alone in the hallway.

“No, I just…” I shrugged, not sure what exactly I had planned to say and swearing internally at myself for not figuring it out before I’d approached him.

He smiled at me, shaking his head a little, before saying, “I see you got your lip done.”

“Yeah, I did,” I confirmed, looking at the ground. I felt significantly less confident than I had just moments ago, now that he was looking at me. “It doesn’t look as cool as I thought it would, but I kinda like,” I said, shrugging.

“Really?” He answered. “I think it looks fucking rad.”

I laughed, actually looking at his face now. “Really?”

“Definitely,” he confirmed.

“Yours too,” I said.

“Yeah,” he answered, grinning. “You mentioned that.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, trying not to blush again, because how obvious could I possibly be? “Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” he said, shrugging. “But like… was there a reason you stopped me? Or are you just making a habit of keeping me after school?”

I looked around and sure enough, once again we were alone. I hadn’t even noticed. How could one person be so fucking captivating? “Well, technically last time you approached me,” I pointed out. “But not really. I was kind of wondering if I could have your number, or something. Maybe not, I just thought since-”

 

“Ask Ashton,” He said, cutting me off.

“What?” I answered, feeling confused and flustered, like I usually did around Michael. I didn’t understand how he could make me feel so calm yet so excited. It didn’t feel like something I’d ever get used to.

“Ask Ashton,” he repeated. “For my number. I have to go.”

“Right now?” I said.

“Well, yeah,” he said, sounding a little amused. “If you hadn’t noticed, school got out five minutes ago.”

“I noticed,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But like, do you want me to text you, or…?”

He didn’t say anything for a few uncomfortable seconds before he started laughing hysterically. “That is such an awkward question,” he explained when I didn’t join in on his giggle fest. “You are just the most awkward person I’ve ever met.”

“Well, sorry,” I mumbled. Great, this would only happen to me.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, still smiling but seeming a little more serious now. “It’s not bad. I’ve just never talked to anyone like you before.”

I decided to look at the positive side of that, smiling a little more shyly now. “I’ve definitely never met anyone like you before, either.”

“You have to stop doing that, Luke,” he said, finally using my first name, and I decided I definitely liked the way it sounded.

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Every time I try to leave you distract me,” he informed me. “I’m gonna turn around now, and walk away, and you’re not allowed to say anything, okay?” I didn’t answer, and he seemed satisfied. He turned around and walked away, and once again I waited until he was all the way down the hallway to yell after him.

“Goodbye, Michael!”

He flipped me off before disappearing from view.

***

Two weeks later I sat in Michael Clifford’s driveway and I was about ninety percent sure I was gonna puke any second.

We’d been texting almost every day since our last encounter in the hallway, but this was the first time we were hanging out outside of school, and I was sure I was going to fuck it up. It already took me half an hour just to convince my mom to let me drive her car, and I was sure that wouldn’t be the worst slip up I made today, being as awkward as I was.

It took five minutes for Michael to come outside, and if it was anybody else I’d complain, but I couldn’t even remember why I was annoyed when Michael came out in a red flannel and black skinny jeans with a hole on each knees. “Sorry,” he said when he slid into the car. “My mom was giving me all these lectures. It’s been awhile since I actually went out with anybody but Ashton.”

“That’s alright,” I told him, ignoring the warm feeling it gave me that he thought I was good enough to hang out with outside of school. 

“Cool,” he answered. I looked at him for a few minutes, taking in everything from his spiked up hair to his black vans. He looked really fucking good. And he looked like he’d actually spent a lot of time on his appearance, which made me smile against my own will, because same. After a few moments he cleared his throat, making me look up and into his eyes. Fuck, his eyes. “Where are we going?”

That’s when it dawned on me how fucking weird it was that I was just sitting here staring at him, and how uncomfortable it probably made him. I smiled weakly, hoping he didn’t notice how I was obviously checking him out. I’m so dumb. “Taco Bell?”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed.

“Really?” I asked, smiling wider.

“Yeah,” he answered, chuckling and giving me a strange look. “Why? Did you expect me to say no?”

“No, I don’t know,” I said. “I’m just being dumb.”

He didn’t answer as I pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the Taco Bell, and I handed him the AUX cord. Luckily we’d spent enough time talking about music to know I’d love whatever he put on. 

We drove along just singing for a few minutes before the music faded out in between songs and I pointed out, “The sky looks so pretty right now.” It was a grey blue color, the clouds riding low on the sky as though it would rain any minute now. 

“It’s the same color as your eyes,” Michael said.

Holy shit.

“What?” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as choked as I felt. 

“Nevermind,” he mumbled. “Ignore me.”

I did, but only for lack of words to express how fucked I was for him.

We got to the restaurant a song and a half later, and even though what he’d said had been nothing but a stupid observation, I’d gone over it a hundred times in my head from the tone of his voice to his reaction afterwards. Was I reading into it too much? Did he feel awkward now? Oh god, technically I still didn’t know if he liked boys, Ashton had never actually told me he did. What if he didn’t? Were we flirting or not? I’d never been in a really serious relationship before. I had no idea how this worked.

I thought about running around to open his door but by the time I decided it was already too late. I decided however this was supposed to work, I definitely wasn’t doing it right. We walked in, his shoulder brushing mine and making me grin because it wasn’t weird like I thought it would be. I could probably hold his hand right now. Not that I was going to, but I totally could.

We ordered and got our food in a few minutes, because we were some of the only people in there. We sat on the other side of the restaurant from an old couple, and what looked like a college student with headphones in and using the free wifi on his computer. From this angle I couldn’t see anyone but Michael. Not that I was complaining. 

Michael let out a loud moan when he took the first bite of his quesarito, and I couldn’t see anyone else but I’m sure they heard it. I let out a giggle (yes, a giggle) when he closed his eyes and tilted his head back while he chewed. I didn’t even touch my food, more occupied with an appetite for something else at the moment. 

“Is it really that good?” I asked, ignoring my less than innocent thoughts.

He swallowed and my eyes totally did not follow the motion of his Adam’s Apple, that would be a whole new level of creepy, definitely not. “I haven’t had Taco Bell in ages,” he answered. “Not since my hair was pink.”

“I liked that,” I told him, hoping my cheeks didn’t match the color we were discussing.

“You liked the pink?” He asked, smiling and paying more attention to me now than his food, which definitely felt like an accomplishment on my part.

“A lot,” I admitted, shrugging in the hope I would seem casual. “I like the green, too, though,” I said quickly, hoping he didn’t think I was insulting his current hair color. “I always liked it. It never seems to fade.”

“That’s just because I keep up with it,” he informs me. “Which is harder than it seems, trust me.”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” I said, reaching out to stroke his hair. “But yeah, I guess it would be.” I was surprised when I felt his hair, my words faltering. My hair, which I’d never dyed, was still as soft as when I was a little kid. Michael’s hair, though, was surprising coarse, probably from all the chemicals it endured. It wasn’t bad whatsoever, I just hadn’t been expecting it. I pulled my hand back when I realized I’d probably been touching it for a while and it was probably getting a little weird for him.

I didn’t look him in the eye, just stared at my still untouched taco, until he said something and I was forced to look back at his perfect fucking face. “Can I ask you something?” He said awkwardly.

“Of course,” I answered, my heart beating fast because I’d seen a lot of different sides of Michael Clifford, from cocky to happy to nervous, but I’d never seen him like this. He looked completely terrified.

“Promise not to hate me?” He asked.

“I don’t think I’m even capable of hating you,” I answered truthfully.

“Alright,” he said, and he seemed a little more relaxed. “Would it be weird if I told you I was bisexual?”

I don’t think there’s anything he could’ve said that would’ve made me smile bigger, besides maybe if he declared his undying love for me. “Of course not, dumbass,” I answered, and his face immediately lit up to match mine. 

“Okay, good,” he said, sounding totally relieved. “I didn’t think Ashton would be friends with some homophobic bigot anyway, but you never know.”

“No, I actually am too,” I said quickly, before I lost my nerve.

“You’re bisexual?” He asked, his eyes widening.

I nodded, shrugging. “Yeah, I’ve known since freshman year.”

“Sophomore,” he said. “God, I had no… wow, okay. Wow.”

“Why do you seem so surprised?” I asked, feeling a little offended.

“You were just right,” he answered. “There’s so much I didn’t know about you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking lame when you actually get to know me,” I said, shrugging. 

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you are,” he said, smiling and if I didn’t know any better I’d say it looked fond. “I like it.”

***

After that, Michael and I became pretty inseparable. We had started sitting together during Algebra Two. It was one month later when it the temperatures had dropped to becoming dead cold and my ripped skinny jeans were way too tight. I’d mostly taking to wearing them because Michael had mentioned finding them hot one day, but since then I’d quite grown to like them anyway, just like my lip piercing. The class was dragging on and I couldn’t wait for it to end to go over Michael’s and just hang out in his room, playing Fifa and eating Doritos, which had become my daily routine recently. Until five, at least, when Mike had practice. His season ended after mine.

As soon as the bell rang we were both out of our seats, the first ones out the door. “Did I tell you,” Michael said, not looking at me as we speed-walked down the stairs toward the door, “that I really like that shirt on you?”

“You were there when I bought it, dumbass” I said, glad he couldn’t see my goofy smile at his comment. It was a State Champs shirt, the first band merch I’d ever actually bought, and I loved it. Michael had convinced me when he saw me looking at it in the store, and I was damn glad he did. I don’t know what I’d been worried about, at least seven people had complimented me on it today. Of course, none of them made me feel the way it did when Michael said it.

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t see it on you,” he said back, and I couldn’t see him roll his eyes but I was sure he did. I hated how he said stuff like that all the time, totally casual, like he wasn’t aware how much it killed me inside. Maybe he wasn’t. It would probably do good to keep it that way.

“Thanks,” I said, accepting the compliment and not letting my mind linger on it like it always does when he says stupid stuff like that.

I drove us to his house, jamming out loudly in the car and probably pissing off at least one half of the neighborhood. The car ride was only a few minutes and he yelled that he’d race me inside before jumping out of my car. Not a smart move on his part, considering my legs are probably at least a couple inches longer than his. I passed him right as we reached the door, flinging it open and launching myself inside, only to be met by the stern gaze of his mother, Karen.

I looked down, embarrassed, but she just laughed. “Hello, Luke,” she said, smiling warmly up at me- I was already taller than her. I’d come to really like Michael’s mom since I’d started coming over, and luckily he seemed to warm up to both my parents pretty soon as well. I wasn’t going to let him meet my brothers anytime soon, though, for obvious reasons. It was hard enough to keep Calum and Ashton quiet most of the school day. 

“Hey, Karen,” I said, beaming at her as I felt her son’s hot hand on the small of my back. I could tell he was just trying to push me forward a little to give himself enough room to shut the door, but I couldn’t help liking the heat of his palm. But, whatever. 

“Hey, mom,” Michael said, nonchalantly. “Way to ignore me. I can see who your favorite son is.”

“Are you saying that Luke might be part of the family someday?” Karen asked, her voice challenging in a way that mirrored Michael’s. I could see where he got his attitude from as she raised one eyebrow at him and smirked.

“We’re going upstairs,” Michael said, ignoring his mom’s question and grabbing my hand to drag me out of the room. 

We got his room and he didn’t let go of my hand to close the door, turning to face me. I felt my face burn, and he looked at me questioningly before realization slapped him in the face. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, but he pulled back, wiping his hands on his pants even though they hadn’t been sweaty. 

“Sorry about my mom, too,” he said, smiling awkwardly. I didn’t understand how he could be the hottest human I’d ever laid my eyes on, and then be so squishy and adorable. It just didn’t add up. “She’s just fucking with you.”

“That’s okay, too,” I said. “I really like her, actually.”

“Cool,” he said, giving me this ridiculous lopsided smile that I still hadn’t gotten used to him throwing my way. I’d never seen him use it on anyone else and that made me wanna return it so he knew how special it made me feel. So I did. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them anymore.

“Fifa?” I asked gently, because he seemed to be feeling a little uncomfortable after what his mom had said and I definitely didn’t want that.

“Yeah, definitely,” he said, relaxing a little as he turned on his PlayStation and grabbed two remotes, handing me one and then hopping onto his bed. I climbed up after him, sitting so our knees were pressed together despite all the extra space around us. He didn’t seem to mind, anyway.

We played for about a half an hour, both cheering when we won and grumbling when we lost. He teased me relentlessly, and I mostly just huffed and told him to shut up or that he was an idiot. 

It was right before I was about to win my second time in a row when he paused it. “Hey!” I whined. “You did that on purpose.”

“Stop complaining,” he said, rolling his eyes, but he was smiling. “I just thought of something I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay,” I said, suddenly forgetting about the game and placing my controller down. “What is it?”

He paused for a moment, obviously considering where to start, with a crazy grin on his face. “Did I ever tell you,” he said slowly, “About my tattoo?”

“What?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You have a fucking tattoo? Like a permanent one?”

He laughed, his face looking like it would split in two if he smiled any wider. “I’ve had it for a year, so yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s permanent.”

“But you were fifteen years old last year,” I said, my eyes widening. “How did you get it?”

“At a party,” he said, shrugging. “I’d never actually been to one before so I don’t remember all of it. I guess some asshole was okay with tattooing a drunk fifteen year old. I got pretty smashed. That’s why I don’t drink at parties anymore. Or even go to them, unless Ashton makes me.”

“I don’t like parties as much as just being here with you, anyway,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know it was possible for his smile to get any bigger, but it did. “Can I see it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s really lame, don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised, because I hadn’t even seen it and I’m already in awe. The smile was gone from his face now and it was replaced by a nervous look, and I couldn’t keep myself from reaching out and squeezing his knee lightly. A small grin returned to his face and he turned slightly before lifting his shirt up on his left side.

Not by my own choice, a small gasp left me when I saw the the small tattoo peeking out over the top of his pants. It was a rose, I could tell, but I couldn’t see the stem until he pushed down his pants and his boxers just enough for me to view it fully. It wasn’t filled in, just an outline, but it was shockingly beautiful and fit so well with Michael’s personality. “Fuck, Mikey,” I said, a knot forming in my stomach. “That’s so awesome.”

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Can I…?” I trailed off, reaching out my hand a little in the direction of the tattoo. He nodded quickly, and I grazed my finger lightly over the pale skin. I heard his breath hitch a little, and decided to ignore it because I probably imagined it.

“Fuck, your hands are cold, Luke,” he said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

I withdrew, frowning. See, I knew there was another reason for his reaction to my touch. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Yours are always warm, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” he answered. “It’s not even bad, it’s actually… refreshing. Wait, no, that sounded stupid, I just meant that I don’t mind. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” I whispered, feeling shy even though it was Michael. Then again, it was Michael.

He sighed, letting his clothes fall back into place and covering up the mark again before turning to face me. “I keep it hidden, obviously. My mom would freak out if she knew. No one knows about it.”

“Not even Ashton?” I asked cautiously.

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p’. “Just you.”

“I love you,” I blurted out, grinning afterwards. No blushing for me anymore. I wasn’t embarrassed. I was just happy.

Michael’s happy face matched my own. “I love you, too,” he said, holding his arms open for a hug. And I would be damned if that wasn’t the best hug of my life.

***

Every day my feelings for Michael grew more and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Everything I learned about him just seemed to make my heart swell and I felt like it was about to burst. I could listen to him ramble on about music or memes or video games for the longest time and never once did I get bored. I even learned a lot about cheerleading. It turns out they do more than just cheer for games; they have their own separate competitions. His house started to feel like a second home, especially now that his season was over and we could hang out every day.

Ashton and Calum seemed to get more anxious as the days went on, but the closer I got to Michael the more I was certain he couldn’t make a move. If Michael didn’t like me like that, I would ruin the friendship I’d worked so hard to build up. I was just glad that Michael talked to me at all, and it was slowly giving me the confidence to be who he really was without being ashamed. There’s no way I could lose that now that I knew what it was like. 

So I kept playing Fifa, and I kept laughing, and I never brought it up the next day when Michael slept over and he fell asleep in my arms.

“I’m fucking tired of this game,” Michael complained one day, throwing his controller on his carpeted floor carelessly. “And my thumbs are always sore.”

“My thumbs aren’t sore,” I commented, but the minute I put down my controller, much more gently than Michael had, I realized how cramped they really were. “Holy shit, never mind, I take that back.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah, exactly,” he said, smirking. “Although I’m sure there are other reasons for that, Lukey,” he teased.

“Shut up,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “That’s not true. Not for me, anyway,” I said, eyeing him warily.

“Oh, don’t be an idiot,” Michael said, doing that little fond eye roll thing he did whenever he insulted me that I loved. “If anyone here would ever get any, it would be you. I’m completely forever alone.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right,” I said. “I’m awkward. You’re… you. Someone is going to realize how great you are before long.” I hoped it didn’t come out as obvious to him as it sounded to myself.

“Stop lying,” he said, and I could tell he was trying to make it come out as a joke but I could hear the serious note behind what he was saying and honestly, it was hard not to tell him how I felt right there and then.

“Mikey, I’m not lying,” I said softly.

“You sit on a throne of lies,” he said, his voice cracking. He wasn’t even putting in a decent attempt to sound like he was teasing anymore.

“Well, fight me about it,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Fine,” he said, and before I knew what was happening he was on top of me, tickling my side and making me squeal loudly.

“Hey!” I protested. “Tickling is cheating! This isn’t a fair fight!”

“What’s fair then?” He asked, smirking down at me.

“This!” I announced before flipping us over and using the same technique on him. And on that day, I discovered Michael Clifford wasn’t ticklish.

He easily turned us back over, before taking both my hands and pinning them behind my face, grinning proudly.

I’d like to start off by saying when I look back on my life, I have never been more embarrassed than I was in the next moment.

Michael looked so hot up above me, with that satisfied little smirk on his face, I was already turned on a little and that wasn’t even my fault. It was Michael’s, for being so damn attractive. So what was I gonna do when he went to adjust his hands and his crotch dropped right onto mine?

I’ll tell you what. I moaned, very, very loudly.

The room got extremely quiet for about half a second, Michael lifting his body off mine with his hands which were not on either side of my head. He stared at me with wide eyes for a few moments, and I knew that this was it. I’d scared him off for good now. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize, I let out a quiet gasp when he brought his hips back down, this time rubbing against mine awkwardly and making me let out a strangled noise I never thought possible.

“Is this okay?” He murmured, grinding down a bit more aggressively when I nodded quickly.

“Yeah,” I said, squeaking out a verbal response as well. “Please don’t stop.”

Unfortunately, Michael has never been one for listening to directions and paused his movements a few seconds later. “Luke?” He said, looking into my eyes with a worried expression.

I reached my hand up to cup his face, moving my thumb over his cheek in what I hoped was a soothing manner. “Yeah, baby?” I said, regretting the word as soon as it left my mouth. God, he was probably just horny. I’m so stupid. I always have to ruin everything.

“Did you just- oh my god, can I kiss you?” He asked. My eyes widened. If my eyes weren’t deceiving me, the pet name actually seemed to make him more desperate than before.

“I would love that,” I told him, my hand slipping around to wrap around his neck.

He brought his mouth downwards and I didn’t waste any time, meeting him halfway there. His lips worked easily with mine, the chemistry between us finally exploding. He stuck his tongue out bravely, and I opened my mouth, tasting him for the first time. God, pizza would never satisfy me again now that I’d had this.

Everything hit me before I could stop it, even though I was half hard in my pants and now was just really not a good time. I pulled back, my eyes watering. “Lukey,” Mike whispered, frowning. “What’s wrong? We don’t have to, we can just pretend this never happened, it’s okay.”

“No, Michael, I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” I said, giving his hair one final tug before bringing my hand down to wipe a tear off my cheek. “You don’t even… I just can’t believe this is happening, I’m sorry, I’m such a pissbaby.”

“How long is so fucking long?” Michael asked quietly, looking at me in awe.

“Since the minute I saw your stupid, gorgeous fucking face,” I answered, laughing a little.

He didn’t hesitate to bring his lips back to mine, this time grinding down at the same time and god, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good and we weren’t even doing anything that sexual. I was so fucked for him. I detached from his lips just long enough to tell him so, pleased when he moaned even louder at my words than he did when I pushed up against him.

And I don’t know how long we spent like that, just kissing and rutting against each other, but we probably would’ve stayed like that forever if I hadn’t heard a loud gasp come from the doorway. Mikey practically jumped a foot in the air before scrambling off me. We both turned guiltily toward his mother, who neither of us even heard open the door. She quickly recovered from her shocked expression, and it turned into a knowing smirk. “Well,” she said. “Took you boys long enough.”

“Mom!” Michael yelled loudly.

“Michael’s only been talking about how much he likes you for months now,” she said, hands on her hips. I laughed, burying my face in my hands. We were idiots, total idiots. 

“I didn’t talk about it that much,” Michael insisted, groaning. It hurt Luke’s dick a little, to be honest. Such a simple sound really shouldn’t turn him on this much.

“Sure you didn’t,” Mrs. Clifford said, sounding amused. “I’ll leave you boys to it, but I’m leaving this open,” she said, slipping out without closing the door.

“We’ll lock it next time,” Michael whispered dramatically, right before his face fell and he looked away from me, toward the ceiling. “I mean, not to assume that there will be a next time, I just meant if you want.”

“I do want,” I assured him, turning on my side to face him. He glanced at me, smiling now. “I want everything, if that’s okay. I mean, not in a sexual way, I just mean I want you to like. I don’t know, I’ve never done this before. Be my boyfriend? Is that right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, turning now to face me fully. “That’s definitely right. And I definitely want that, too,” he said, leaning forward and kissing me softly, much more innocent this time, just his lips lingering on mine moving softly. I think I liked this one even better.


End file.
